But in the excitement of the approach to Cedar Island, which was
every moment taking on clearer and clearer outlines as the schooner
neared it, Jack forgot everything else. A smart “topsail” breeze was
blowing, and under it the schooner swiftly bore down on the island.
The boys saw rough, jagged cliffs shooting up from a sea of the
deepest azure blue. The cliffs bunched as they rose, and the island
appeared to rise in a sort of cone in the center. It looked gloomy
and inhospitable. Even at a distance they could see the white spray
as the waves broke against the steep cliffs.
“Look,” cried Jack suddenly, “there’s what gives the island its
name, I guess.”
At the summit of the highest point of the island could now be seen a
lone tree. It looked as if it were dead and stretched out its naked
branches against the sky.
Cap’n Toby was fairly dancing with excitement.
“It’s the place, the place,” he kept shouting, “there’s the lone
tree, there are the cliffs, everything is just as Cap’n Walters said
it was.”
“It’s a mournful-looking place,” commented Jack.
“What difference, lad,” was Uncle Toby’s retort, “all we’ve got to
do is to land, get the stone chest and then yo, ho! for home and
riches.”
“I hope your schemes won’t turn out to be false hopes,” said Jack.
“Confound it, lad, you seem to think the stone chest isn’t there.”
“I am pretty skeptical. Any one of a thousand things might have
happened to it since Captain Walters left.”
In an hour’s time the schooner had been brought as close in to the
island as they dared, for those unknown waters might be filled with
saw-toothed reefs and rocky shoals. Snow lay in the abysses between
the steeply sloping rocky hills that made up the interior of the
island. Scanty shrubs with dark foliage found a precarious growth in
patches. Sea birds rose in clouds as the schooner’s anchor roared
down, and flew screaming in anger or astonishment about the invader
of their solitude.
“Come on, boys,” cried Uncle Toby, “who’s for the honor of being the
first ashore.”
Of course there was a scramble. Raynor sought and obtained
permission for Noddy Nipper to be one of the party. It would have
broken the Bowery boy’s heart to have been left behind. Mr. Terrill,
however, to their astonishment, did not appear inclined to go
ashore. He said he had a bad headache and would lie down.
“Very well, we’ll do the prospecting for you, eh, boys?” said Uncle
Toby heartily; but Jack flashed a suspicious look at Terrill as he
turned and went below. Then some instinct prompted him to whisper to
Raynor. The boys also sought the cabin. When they came back, their
arms were full of bundles.
“What are those for,” inquired Cap’n Toby.
“Oh, just by way of setting up housekeeping ashore,” returned Jack
with a laugh.
“I can’t spare any of my men right now to row you ashore,” said
Jarrow, the squint-eyed mate, “but you can take along Merryweather
and Sherry.”
The two revenue cutter men, who had been doing odd jobs with the
crew since their rescue, were only too glad to go along. Soon the
boat was lowered and everything ready for the landing.
“There’s something suspicious about all this to me,” whispered Jack
to Raynor as they cast off.
“What’s the trouble?”
“Why, haven’t you noticed that there are none of the regular crew
with us, and that Terrill made an excuse not to go ashore. There’s
something queer at the bottom of it.”
But no more was said just then, for Cap’n Toby, in high good humor,
was pointing out the course they must lay to the oarsmen. His aged
but keen eyes had spied a little cove that would make a good landing
place. The boat was headed for this.
Before long they were ashore. The cove ran up inland between
frowning walls of black cliff. But there appeared to be an exit to
the interior of the island at the other end of it.
Pulling the boat up on the beach, the adventurers set off over the
sand and were soon clambering among precipitous rocks, Jack and
Raynor helping Uncle Toby over the worst places. The old captain’s
map gave the hiding place of the stone chest as a cairn under the
dead branches of the cedar.
Soon they were in full view of the tree and the heights on which it
stood when they emerged from the abyss, and found themselves on a
rocky plateau. From this plateau there rose what may be compared to
a mesa on the western plains. It was a miniature table mountain with
a flat top. On the summit was the cedar tree and, if Uncle Toby’s
hopes were not doomed to be dashed, the stone cairn and the treasure
chest.
“That cedar tree never grew there,” declared Jack, looking up the
sheer cliffs at the mournful bare branches of the lone tree.
“No, Cap’n Walters always reckoned it was set up there by the people
who had the treasure. They said it was a guide, he figgered,” said
Uncle Toby.
“What is supposed to be the origin of the treasure?” asked Raynor.
“Cap’n Walters allowed that hundreds of years ago the old Vikings
from Norseland came over here and found some sort of gold diggings.
At any rate, the treasure consists, in a large measure, of beaten
gold bracelets and breastplates and so forth. You know scientists
say that there wasn’t always as much ice up here as there is to-day.
They say the world’s axis has shifted a bit.”
“I’ve heard that,” said Jack, “but these blonde esquimaux, did the
captain figure that they descended from the old Norsemen?”
“He didn’t know nothing about that,” was Cap’n Toby’s reply, “but it
sounds reasonable when you come ter think of it.”
“What’s puzzling me is how we are to get to the top of that
plateau,” said Jack, after a few minutes.
Uncle Toby drew out his map. He studied it for a minute. Then his
face cleared.
“That stuck me, too, for a minute,” he said. “Nothing but a fly
could scale those cliffs. But see here, the map shows that on the
other side there is a sort of natural rock bridge connecting Cedar
Mountain, as we might call it, with the rest of the island.”
“That’s so,” said Jack, “well, let’s go round and take a look.”
It was a tortuous path they had to follow, avoiding big boulders and
huge rocks that were strewn about as though titans had been playing
marbles with them. But at last they worked round to the other side
of Cedar Mountain, as Uncle Toby had christened it.
Then a simultaneous cry of dismay broke from the lips of the entire
party.
The rock bridge was gone!
The jagged edges where it had once spanned a deep gulch could be
seen, but either the disintegration of the rock or some convulsion
of nature had destroyed it. Cedar Mountain, with its steeply
sloping, unsurmountable sides, was cut off from the rest of the
island. It was, in fact, an unattainable island within an island.
“Stumped!” grunted Uncle Toby.
In his bitter disappointment he could find no more to say. The rest
of the party exchanged blank looks.
“I guess the treasure is safe for all time from intruding hands,”
said Jack softly. “I’m sorry, Uncle Toby.”
But the old man now began to bemoan his fate. He stumped his wooden
leg. He swore, something Jack had never heard him do before. He
shook his fists at the sky. For the time being he was a madman.
When he quieted down a little they began the wearisome trip back to
the cove where they had left the boat. It seemed an endless trip,
but at length they reached it.
“Now to get back to the schooner and break the news,” said Jack.
“Won’t Terrill be mad--Jee-hosh--a--phat, where is the schooner?”
Where, indeed? The anchorage where she had lain when they last saw
her was empty. No vessel was in sight. Suddenly Merryweather broke
into a shout.
“There! Look there yonder off that bight of land!” he cried.
Their eyes followed the direction in which he pointed. Angry
exclamations broke from them ally
“The traitors! The sneaks!” exclaimed Jack chokingly.
Off a rocky point the _Morning Star_ was tacking clearly with the
intention of rounding it.
“They are making for the other side of the island,” continued Jack.
“Terrill’s plot to seize the treasure with the help of that rascal
crew has come to a head. But he’ll be nicely fooled. No human being
can ever scale Cedar Mountain.”